Iceberg
by auraborealiis
Summary: Admiration...Infatuation...Acceleration...Desperat ion...Who would've thought that something so simple could turn out to be something so complex? Kazuo KiriyamaSatomi Noda, Novel-Based.
1. Negation

Disclaimer: I don't own Battle Royale, nor any of its characters. This story will be told from Satomi's point of view.

**1 - Negation**

It started on the first year of junior high school. I was eager to learn and study for the course of the semester as usual...

...and nothing but that. That was originally the plan of action.

The plan I had in mind.

I was never very social. Schoolwork restricted the amount of free time I had. Sure, I talked with Chisato, Yukie, Yuko, Yuka, and Haruka but it never went much from there. A bit surprising they would've ever considered talking to me. Since I isolated myself with books to arm and protect me in the world.

Ah, _knowledge is power_. I so agreed with that statement.

I guess one could say I was a perfectionist. All of the girls who I occasionally hung out with did. They believed I studied too hard, that I seldom used my locker and lugged around a dozen books at a time. Once, my bag almost split open in its exhaustion. Still though, I considered a locker to be time wasted. Why bother transporting books back and forth when I could just as easily carry them all? Seems logical to me.

Besides, my parents were expectant of me to do well. I had been top of my previous classes over the years, much to the envy of the other students. They would constantly ask me to help them with their homework and I did. Selfishness was not in my personality and I liked the attention I got from everyone. Basically I was top of everything in school.

Until he, Kiriyama Kazuo, ended up transferring to my class.

Everything rapidly changed after he appeared, more rapidly than I would've liked. His intelligence...where do I begin? I felt swept away the moment we had math class together. The way he answered all those complex algebraic questions as if he were telling his telephone number rendered me speechless. The following classes, all through the afternoon, were the same. I soon began to feel he should've taught the class instead.

It grew apparent to me that when it came to his knowledge, I was witnessing nothing but the surface. Even more incredible was the fact that he was blind and deaf to the shocked stares, the pauses that seemed to last for ages. It was as though he didn't care.

Another thought then came to me. I had to find out more about him and meet him if possible. That's how deeply this boy intrigued me.

But usually, I avoided boys. I wasn't like Noriko or Yukie who were busy daydreaming about Nanahara. Nanahara was nice but too naive for my liking. His obsession with forbidden music a.k.a. "rock and roll" also lowered my interest. I couldn't have that on my personal record.

And I certainly wasn't like Chisato with her crush on Mimura. I imagined the basis of that attraction to be purely physical. Sure Mimura was highly sophisticated and perceptive of the outside world, two things I would've considered in a guy. However, considering his promiscuity with the girls caused the previous traits to wither away instantly. I loathe dishonest people and he was no exception in my book.

To sum it up, I was never interested in boys because I was too preoccupied to bother with them. Even if I did have the time, I still wouldn't have been interested. It was all pointlessly silly.

But Kiriyama was different. He was quiet and withdrawn like me and obviously mature. He was the type of boy you hardly knew existed, different from the rowdy ones I was so used to.

After the bell signaled that school was over, I hastily gathered my belongings and rushed over to the front of the classroom. Since I was at the latter rows, I couldn't see Kiriyama's face. I only saw the back of his black school jacket and shoulder-length hair that lay straight out on his neck.

I managed to squeeze past the stampede of students eager to go to their lockers so I could get out before him. Then, holding my breath in anticipation, I turned around and faced the doorway.

Never had I seen a boy quite like Kiriyama before. There was a uniqueness to his looks that was remarkably elegant, something that wasn't common to those his age. It was in his tall, slim form that I observed earlier in class. He reminded me of a greyhound in the way he was shaped. Neat bangs hid his forehead and threatened to cover his eyes as well. Ironically, the first part of this handsome boy that I now noticed were those dark eyes; eyes that proved captivating yet cold all the same.

I proceeded to stare in fascination as he walked past, ignoring me and everyone else. It was when Yuka touched my shoulder from behind me that I snapped out of my trance.

"Hot, isn't he?" Yuka cheekily grinned. "You've got competition. Ever since his high-class family moved here, he's been the new celebrity. A lot of girls, me included, think he's cute."

"N-No, not like that," I murmured while reddening at what she implied. "I just want to...get to know him better."

"Su-ure," Yuka said, approaching me in a jokingly suggestive way. "You've fallen for him. I have a knack for knowing these things."

Backing away, I retorted, "I mean it, Yuka, cut it out! I don't have any feelings for Kiriyama whatsoever and I don't know why you thought I did! I'm not a boy-crazy groupie like you! You should know better than that!"

Silence set in between us apart from the penetrating cacophony of shuffling feet, lockers banging, and muffled conversations circling our spot. Yuka appeared a bit shocked at what I said but then shrugged it off.

"Whatever you say, Satomi," she replied, her tone rich in sarcasm. Issuing this as her final remark, Yuka turned and headed over to her locker. She most likely went to chat with the other girls who were nearby and must've overheard the whole embarrassing event.

I breathed out an angry sigh. It was so offensive to me, at the time, of how ignorant Yuka was at judging my thoughts. Didn't she bother to realize how much I studied, how I couldn't stand the fanciful, often salacious talk about boys that she and sometimes Chisato would gossip about? I concurred with Yukie on it being "totally gross!" Tell me about it.

Glaring at Yuka's distant form, I headed on outside for home, trying to forget all that happened and concentrate on my homework.

But I couldn't forget the enigmatic specter that was Kiriyama Kazuo and I had no idea how right Yuka actually was.


	2. Sensation

AN - Ms. Mazaki is of my creation.

**2 - Sensation**

The day was done and I continued to think of Kiriyama. He made such a first impression on me at school that it took on a life of its own. I couldn't get him out of my head. It was so annoying.

Annoying still was that this kind of thing never happened to me before. Nonetheless, I ignored the new presence of a boy in my head and continued dutifully to finish my homework. And when I did, the vision dissipated and was replaced by reason, logic, science...

But my diving into books didn't quell my desire to actually meet him. Instead, it heightened it by degrees. When I woke up the next morning, it was the first thing on my mind before anything else.

Frustrated, I decided Yuka was to blame. Yes, she must be the cause of this. I heard that the more time you spend with someone, the more you act like him or her. And slowly but surely, I was becoming as boy-crazy as she was.

I leaped out of bed and went to the bathroom to take a quick shower. I stripped myself of my pajamas and turned the water on, waiting impatiently for it to reach the temperature I wanted. When it was neither too hot, nor too cold, I stepped in.

It was here that I made my new plan of action: avoid Kiriyama the rest of the day. That way, I'll concentrate on my work and Yuka won't bother me. It's simple but necessary if I wish to maintain my usual thinking.

My inner wants protested fervently against this but they eventually quieted down as the warm water splashed all over my body. Shortly after I turned the faucet off, ending the comfortable spray, I was determined to put my strategy into motion.

The rest of the morning went routinely. I dressed carefully into my school uniform and brushed my teeth. My breakfast was a stale bit of toast which I promptly devoured. Finally, I gathered up my things and headed off to school. A fresh breeze appeared and blew me off towards my destination the rest of the way.

I was lucky that Kiriyama was in front of me in all of my morning classes. As long as it was like that then he was no longer a distraction. While Yuka and the other girls gave him lustful sighs, I listened to the lesson at hand and copied down notes.

But when it came to answering questions, it was a different story. It appeared the teachers had unanimously chosen Kiriyama as their "star student" and picked him to answer the questions they fired on the class while completely ignoring Motobuchi and myself, much to my and the rest of my classmates' surprise. Motobuchi was often the first to know the answers and the first the teachers picked to say them. I could tell he wasn't pleased that Kiriyama was getting all the attention. Constantly, his thin lips pursed together, his eyes sparkled, and his narrow face contorted with fury. He was even shaking his fists.

I too was upset but not to the extent Motobuchi was. Though I personally felt it selfish of our teachers to be so ridiculously insistent of Kiriyama, I hid my opinions under a mask of apathy. I later realized it to be close to the expression Kiriyama wore.

The rest of the students' opinion on Kiriyama slowly became apparent when lunchtime came. Souma and her little group of delinquents didn't show a spot of interest over this student who transferred to our class. They remained indifferent as always, ignoring his existence.

Numai and Sasegawa, the class bullies, were fully convinced that Kiriyama was another "nerd" like Motobuchi. While waiting on line in the cafeteria, I overheard them talking to their friends Tsukioka and Kuronaga (who recently joined the group) about making Kiriyama their next target instead of Akamatsu.

The class jocks, unusually enough, took the fuss over Kiriyama as some big joke. Sitting at a table nearby Numai's, the three of them (Oki, Niida, and Hatagami) jeered about how Motobuchi was ignored by the teachers before moving on to cruder topics.

Nanahara, Mimura, and their friends also did not seem to be interested in Kiriyama, along with Megumi, Kaori, and Mizuho who were still chatting about anime or Kenzaki Junya the pop star.

When I got my lunch and went to the table my friends were at, Haruka gave me an exasperated look. She was visibly stressed from the lovesick girls surrounding her. Yukie, Noriko, and Chisato all stared dreamily at Nanahara and Mimura as usual. Fumiyo's topic of concern was her lunch and it appeared Yuko was absent. Izumi and Yuka, meanwhile, had their eyes glued to Kiriyama as he ate his lunch alone at a table in the corner. He ignored the many giggles and glances from them in his direction.

I almost pitied him. I would've never been to handle such widespread notoriety.

Even the thought of it sickened me which caused a bit of difficulty in eating my lunch: a simple cheese sandwich. Trying to calm my stomach down, I prayed for the lunch period's closure. It was too unnerving for me to stay here with all the "isn't he dreamy?" and the "he's so cute!" for long. And that really made me lose my appetite.

I left the table after shoving the last bite of sandwich into my mouth and headed for the bathroom to wash my hands, now smeared with grease from the cheese.

As I turned on the faucet with a flick of my wrist, I reviewed the afternoon schedule. If I wasn't mistaken, the first period of the afternoon was...

...literature.

I grimaced. Literature was never my favorite subject (though I did reasonably well in it, of course). I just...never got the concept of poetry which is what we mainly did. I could never write a good poem in my life and -

BRING!

The lunch bell rang, putting me out of my thoughts. I hurriedly dried my hands before heading to class.

Entering the classroom, I met up with Noriko who sat in the seat next to mine. She looked especially pleased and I wasn't surprised. Literature was her favorite subject; she was arguably the best writer in our homeroom.

"I love poetry," Noriko said, her eyes dancing with eagerness. "It's so wonderful. I think we're doing something fun today, don't you, Satomi?"

Before I could reply, the teacher, Ms. Mazaki, arrived. Ms. Mazaki was new here. I guess this was her first job since she looked quite young and stylish. Standing at the front of the class, she performed her routine of clapping her hands twice to get our attention.

When all was quiet, Ms. Mazaki announced in her upbeat tone, "Hello, class. Today, I was thinking of doing something different. But before I tell what it is, you all must split into pairs -"

Everyone cheered. I saw Noriko glance hopefully at Nanahara.

"- that I will assign you," Ms. Mazaki finished, amused when the cheers swiftly morphed into groans of displeasure.

But I was glad. I hated having to pick partners. I ended up with Motobuchi every time as a result. So with luck, things would be different.

Ms. Mazaki glanced at the anxious rows of students and started to choose the pairs one at a time. She then got to Noriko's name and said, "Nakagawa Noriko, you're partnered with..."

Right next to me, Noriko shook from nervousness.

"...Niida Kazushi."

At that moment, Noriko's jaw literally dropped to the floor in her horrified astonishment. Random peals of laughter engulfed the room. Some of the girls gave Noriko pitiful looks; others laughed at her reaction.

I turned around to see Niida amid the guffaws. Sitting lazily at the back of the row to my left, he looked as though his birthday had come several months early. He gave Noriko a broad grin that showed off his appalling buckteeth.

I was surprised my glasses didn't crack on impact.

Rolling her eyes, Ms. Mazaki waited for the laughter to die down before continuing. Nanahara ended up with Fumiyo and Mimura with Mizuho, much to the disappointment of Yukie and Chisato. Then...

"Noda Satomi, you're with Kiriyama Kazuo."

My heart skipped a beat. All my avoiding him was for nothing. This was definitely something I didn't foresee happening.

Out of panic, I scoured out Kiriyama. He sat in the last seat of the last row, listless as ever. He didn't see me, though, and even if he did, he wouldn't have known my apprehension about us pairing up.

"Now class," Ms. Mazaki cheerfully spoke, "get over to your assigned partner."

Seeing Noriko reluctantly leave her seat, I gathered my notebook and backpack and went over to Kiriyama, swerving around the students moving chairs to their partners' desks. I noticed that Yuka winked coyly at me as we passed each other and was irritated by it. She must love making me miserable.

I managed to find an abandoned chair and brought it over to Kiriyama's desk before sitting down. This particular chair had an uneven leg that caused it to rock (probably why no one wanted it) but it would do.

Once again, Ms. Mazaki waited for the class to calm down. When they did, she gave out the instructions.

"Now class, this is the project of the day. Each pair will be given one blindfold. One of you has to put on the blindfold; the other has to have their notebook and pen out which they should've brought to class." She eyed pointedly on Numai and his group. "I will give each pair a piece of the same fruit I brought. The students who don't have on the blindfold must not tell their partner what the fruit is. That's for them to figure out on their own.

Ms. Mazaki let out a breath of rapture. "Senses, children, senses. The blindfolded partner has to describe the touch, taste and scent of the fruit. The partner without the blindfold has to record their partner's adjectives in their notebook. When finished, you both have to write a poem at least ten lines long using the words you recorded. This will count as a grade and be due tomorrow. Do you understand?"

Several cries of "Yes, Ms. Mazaki," echoed through the air.

"Good," said Ms. Mazaki. "I'll pass out first the blindfolds. Then I'll pass out the fruit when I check to make sure they're on your partner."

Grabbing out an armful of white blindfolds, Ms. Mazaki began handing them out to each pair of students.

Meanwhile, I placed my notebook and pen upon the desk Kiriyama and I shared, averting my attention away from him. I didn't wish to get lost in those eyes of his like yesterday. I couldn't afford getting distracted by them now.

"So Kiriyama," I started, absently dissecting wood grain patterns in the desk, "do you want to put on the blindfold?"

Waiting for an acknowledgment, I heard feminine giggles but said nothing to whomever they were from. At last, I figured he didn't hear me and decided to repeat myself.

But right when my lips parted, Kiriyama finally answered my question.

"Whatever the decision, I will follow along with it."

Instinctively, I shivered. I've never heard Kiriyama talk in a regular conversation. His voice held a somber air and oddly enough, it was in a monotone. However, there was a certain edge about that second quality that made it intimidating, not boring as one would expect.

I somehow pulled myself together to reply back, "All right, then. You can have the blindfold."

When Kiriyama received the white strip of cloth from the teacher, the thought occurred to me.

"Kiriyama, do you need help tying that on?"

Kiriyama looked at me, his face eerily calm.

"No. I can do it myself."

Kiriyama wrapped and tied the blindfold around his head and I felt relieved by it. It's better this way, my logic insisted. You won't have to look in his eyes. I fully agreed on that statement with abandon.

Little did I know how very, very wrong I was.

When Ms. Mazaki got to handing out the fruit, I mentally smirked. They were ordinary apple slices. I couldn't believe Ms. Mazaki would choose such a recognizable fruit. Then I reminded myself that exotic fruits were next to impossible to come by in the Republic of Greater East Asia.

Whipping out my pen, I wrote down the three categories: touch, taste, scent. I then set my pen down and looked at Kiriyama.

Kiriyama reached out onto the desk. His white, spider-like hand groped for the apple slice before finding it. Picking it up between his index finger and thumb, he rubbed the apple between his fingers.

"Smooth," he uttered. "Wet."

I wrote his words down under the "touch" category. For some unknown reason, I started to feel my stomach flutter, my mind fading into a haze...

"Moist. Curved."

Furiously, I bit my lip. I demanded myself to concentrate.

"Thin."

When Kiriyama stopped speaking, I looked at him again. The apple slice remained between his fingers. He lifted it under his perfectly straight nose and sniffed.

"Earthy. Mild."

Once again, the awkward body signals returned as I listened and wrote down his words. This time along with my lightheadedness, a powerful heat developed inside my chest, threatening to suffocate me in its intensity. It was a new sensation that I both feared and became excited by.

But the worst was yet to come...

I forced myself to look at Kiriyama once more. He held the apple slice under his nose, not saying another word. Steadily, he directed the apple towards his lips.

That was when I stopped writing. My heart stopped too.

I was just drowning in the vivid warmth that soared from the depths of my abdomen. I watched Kiriyama's shell pink lips part, revealing pearly teeth. I watched as those teeth sank into the apple, biting away a piece of it.

"Juicy...sweet..."

My mind screamed at me to stop but I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop what my body was doing. Most of all, I was afraid. I was afraid of what I was feeling and the most dreadful part was that I didn't know what it was or how to control it.

Or maybe I did and wished it wasn't that...wished it wasn't what I thought it was. It couldn't happen to me.

"Tender...soft..."

I couldn't hear words anymore. It was just his voice...

Only when the heat attacked my face did I come back to earth. Remembering what Kiriyama said, I scribbled down his words on the paper. By the time I did that, however, Kiriyama already took off his blindfold.

"I'm done," he stated. "It's an apple."

Deeply disturbed by this mysterious albeit recent occurrence, I struggled in regaining my composure. I thought I succeeded since Kiriyama apparently didn't notice. Besides, how could he know how I was underneath that blindfold?

While I was reassured with that undeniable fact, nonetheless, I experienced the after-effects of...whatever it was I felt. I couldn't focus on anything, let alone writing a poem, unlike Kiriyama. All I wrote were vague fragments that held no meaning.

I couldn't have been happier when the bell rang. Stuffing my notebook into my backpack, I raced out of the classroom, ignoring the bewildered looks of my classmates. So embarrassed and confused was I that I didn't want anyone to see me.

More importantly, I didn't want anyone to know I liked Kiriyama. I liked him and I didn't know why.


	3. Temptation

**3 - Temptation**

As the next few days came and went, I watched helplessly as my composure unraveled like a ball of string. It grew so horrid that every part of my body was a boiling cauldron on the verge of release.

But...release of what? That's what I didn't get.

It didn't matter to me, though. I had enough to worry about.

Kiriyama...his presence in my head was a parasite, sucking at my common sense. Whenever I opened a book, all I saw was him and no words. Whenever I saw him in the hall, I felt unreasonably flustered. These little things were more than irritating; they passed that point long ago. They were now hazardous to my sanity.

Everyone else believed I was normal apart from a little nervous. They didn't know, though. They didn't know what was going on inside my mind...

...and I wasn't planning to tell them. The last thing I wanted was to see Yuka's knowing smirk of realizing she was right from the start: I had caught the love virus. So far, I've proven to have a bad reaction to it.

On one significant day, I decided I had enough. I refused to be ensnared in this rut of "love-sickness." It was worthless, a waste of my time, and after this insane scenario's been dealt with accordingly, I must make sure this kind of thing wouldn't happen again. Ever.

The moment school ended, I searched for Kiriyama. Finding him among a crowd of students in the hall, I saw there were surprisingly no groups of girls tailing after him. It was literally now or never.

"Kiriyama?" I asked.

Kiriyama turned towards me. Viewing this as his recognition, I continued with my request.

"Can I...talk to you in private? Away from here?"

All Kiriyama did was nod. He followed me quietly, past the chatting students and outside the school building. Eventually, I stopped at the back of the building where no one could see us.

I inhaled slowly. I have to tell Kiriyama how I feel if I ever want to return to normal.

"Kiriyama...I..." I stumbled on the words. I guess I really did have feelings for him of some sort. "I have a confession to make..."

I looked cautiously into Kiriyama's eyes before continuing.

"I...I like you a lot," I blurted out, blushing. Deep down, I cursed. "Like you a lot?" I could've done better than that!

Whatever. I got the message across.

Staring at the ground, I tried to wrap up my little speech. "I liked you ever since I saw you on the first day of school. You're so much...better than the other boys are. You're mature, polite, intelligent..."

As I spoke, my anxiety diminished and I inwardly smiled. I was right; telling Kiriyama how I felt helped. I'm myself again and everything will be set right by tomorrow.

Full of renewed confidence, I cleared my throat and said, "That's all. I just thought you should know. Goodbye."

I checked Kiriyama's face again. His expression remained unaffected, his cool gaze just as so.

I didn't hesitate in interpreting it as his acceptance. Picking up my backpack, I turned around to return to the front of the school.

A sting of regret sprang through me but I shook it off. This whole thing was over; I had to move on with my life.

And that's how it could've been if it wasn't for something...unexpected.

So far, I was very close to the end of the wall. As I began to move around the corner, I felt a strong hand grab my left wrist. The hand pulled it to the left, causing my entire body to swing about as well. I also dropped my backpack in the process for I was too caught-off-guard to do anything.

And then...one shock after another...a pair of lips pressed upon my astonished ones.

It took a few seconds for me to confirm what was happening. Kiriyama was kissing me. But...why?

Once this revelation hit, Kiriyama's lips parted from mine. He took a couple of steps back and stared indifferently.

Perhaps out of agitation, I too backed away. I raised a hand to my trembling lips, my eyes widening. That couldn't have happened.

"How?" I said numbly. "Why?"

Kiriyama observed my reaction before replying, "Why what?"

I directed my confusion upon him. "Why? Why did you kiss me? I never liked you in...that way. I liked you for you. I'm not like those other girls."

Those icy eyes continued to analyze my every move. It was making me even more uncomfortable than I already was.

"W-Well," I blurted again, "I have to go. My parents will be wondering where I am."

Hoping he understood, I turned again to pick up my abandoned backpack.

But then the hand that previously held mine in a vice grip returned.

"You can't leave yet."

I twisted my head around. "Why? Nothing more is needed to be said. I told you how I felt. And I only did it to get my priorities in order. For the past two days, all my thoughts were of you."

Kiriyama made no other movement than keeping his hold on my wrist.

"Kiriyama, let me go -"

"I made my choice."

"W-What?" I stammered. "What are you talking about?"

"You left me with a choice," Kiriyama calmly informed. "When you turned around, I flipped a coin to decide what to do next -"

"You flipped a coin?" I interrupted incredulously. I didn't know what was going on. Why would Kiriyama need to flip a coin over an event like this? Why would he in the first place?

In any case, Kiriyama continued, ignoring my question.

"Heads, I would reciprocate your feelings towards me. Tails, I would walk away."

For a fleeting moment, I hadn't a clue what he meant. Then the answer struck me with the sheer force of a lightning bolt.

"No," I whispered. "You mean the coin...came up heads?"

Kiriyama stood there motionless. "I made my choice. I must follow through with it."

Words refused to exit my mouth; I was too flabbergasted to speak. Unconsciously, I backed up further to the wall of the building. Kiriyama responded with a step forward for each step I took back. This continued until the unmistakable surface of bricks touched my spine; I was trapped.

"What are you going to do, then?" I asked tensely.

Kiriyama eyed my face, causing a heavy blush to color my cheeks. He said, "I've never kissed a girl. I wish to see what it's like."

"But you already did, didn't you?" I reasoned. "Yes, you did. That was my first kiss so it must have been yours, too."

Strangely, Kiriyama didn't reply in words but in action. He simply caressed his soft, pink lip with his tongue.

I needed no explanation. Even I knew what that meant and I wasn't interested in the subject.

"Oh," I softly uttered, "you mean...that way..."

Kiriyama bent down his head till our faces were about a centimeter apart. We were so close that I could see every one of his eyelashes, every strand of hair that covered his forehead.

His oh-so-beautiful mouth opened to say the word "yes" to my own before consuming it.

And my world spiraled towards the point of no return.

I gasped as Kiriyama's lips moved against mine. This kiss was nothing like the one of brief contact that occurred a minute ago. This was serious. This...just couldn't be real...

When Kiriyama's tongue lightly flicked my mouth, I began to feel insanely dizzy. A burning heat soon aroused itself from my chest. It was then I realized that this heat was the same one that I desperately tried to put out days before. Only this time, it was a raging inferno consuming my entire body without mercy.

One thought alone stood amid my collapsing logic: push him off now!

I raised a hand to Kiriyama's face in an attempt to stop his assault on my lips. But for the third time, Kiriyama's hand gripped my wrist and pressed it firmly against the wall - all in a matter of seconds.

This action left me more stunned than anything else that had taken place did.

So fast...how could he...?

My other hand joined it shortly, secured by another hand. Now I was really trapped because -

his body -

was fully -

against -

my own...

I bared my teeth upon seeing this to prevent his tongue from entering my mouth. However, I was aware that eventually he would. I closed my eyes tightly to avoid the carnal images that followed this notion. It wasn't me...

Or was it?

While I attempted to gather whatever reason I still possessed, a thought that I had long suspected bounced back into my conscience: could it be that I...lusted after Kiriyama...from the start?

Early on, I scoffed at its first appearance but now...it's beginning to make sense. It would easily explain the wildfire that blazed every time I saw and thought of Kiriyama these past few days. Maybe that's why I couldn't figure out exactly what I was feeling towards Kiriyama. If that's the case, then...

Is this...what lust feels like?

Other basic urges joined in. This could be the last _real_ kiss I'll have, considering that I avoid boys. I might as well make the most of it and find out what it's like.

Almost at once, my mind broke and succumbed to the emotions surfacing to life. Occupying its place was a hunger that needed to be satisfied and a thirst that needed to prove myself.

My eyes lazily opened. Probably a mere thirty seconds had passed yet it felt like eternity. I was ready, though.

I can play mind games too, Kiriyama. But this time...I'll dance to your tune.

It was then that Kiriyama's probing tongue finally entered my mouth. I felt it slide over every curve, every groove, sending shivers along my body. And I loved it.

Opening my mouth wider, I had my tongue find Kiriyama's. Our tongues then dueled for supremacy...

Though I must confess were it any other time, I would've surely been repulsed by my actions. But right then, it was so perfect. I was too enraptured to think straight, anyway.

When the need for air came, the most exhilarating sixty seconds of my life ended.

Pulse returning to normal, I couldn't help but wonder whether Kiriyama felt that same intense high. Since his hands remained pinning my wrists, I had to angle my head to get a better view of his face.

Kiriyama's breathing pattern was overall the same, I mentally noted, but his cheeks were slightly flushed. Raising his eyes to mine, he said one word: "Slippery."

I looked at him inquisitively. "Slippery?"

"In and out, in and out. Like a chameleon's tongue." He darted his eyes to my mouth. "I never realized a mouth was so slick. But then...all orifices on the human body are. It was interesting."

Immediately, that all-too familiar blush rose onto my cheeks. This was the exact way he spoke when he described that apple.

"You're right," I shakily admitted. "I never knew a mouth was like that. But Kiriyama," I made my tone more serious, "I don't think that you're as emotionless as you seem. You're still a teenager. You still have hormones. I'm sure of this because your face is flushed like mine."

That crucial point revealed, Kiriyama let go of my wrists. He tilted my chin, bringing my face within proximity of his.

I wasn't sure what his intentions were precisely. He might've been trying to figure out if he actually felt something as well.

Kiriyama's fingers brushed my cheek.

"You're not a very good liar," he concluded in response to what I had said previously about me liking him "for only his intelligence."

"I never was," I agreed. "I admit that I found you very attractive even though I liked you for more than that. But...why did you choose to kiss me? I meant it when I said that I don't want a relationship with you. Besides, there are other girls, girls...prettier than me," I muttered.

"It so happened that you were the one who spoke first," Kiriyama answered. He studied my features. "There are indeed more attractive girls than you. However, that didn't matter to me. It could've been anyone. Everyone's the same. People are the same. What difference would it make?

Kiriyama's grip tightened. "You may be right on some aspects. I do feel strange myself when I think about it. I don't know why, though..."

Without warning, Kiriyama's mouth descended for the third time upon my own.

It was safe to say that I was kissing a sociopath. But instead of being scared from this insight, I grew compelled to find out more about him than ever. Why is he like this? What caused him to be this way? Is he always like this?

These questions, along with countless others, swarmed my conscious rampantly.

I then noticed the feel of Kiriyama's lips as he kissed me. They were cold and chapped, totally different from regular lips. But that was to be expected; nothing about him was regular in the slightest.

Our kissing ceased and for several seconds after, there was silence. Unsurprisingly, it was I who discontinued it.

"I'm not your plaything, Kiriyama."

"I never said you were," spoke Kiriyama factually.

"Also, it's getting late," I said, checking my watch. "We should both get going."

With that, I headed for my backpack. Slipping its cloth straps over my shoulders, I heard Kiriyama announce from behind, "I'll see you tomorrow."

I turned around. "What?"

"I'll see you tomorrow," Kiriyama repeated. "Maybe not at this location, maybe not at this time. But I will see you."

Despite being alarmed at this proposition, I responded back with equal tranquility.

"Okay, we will. Perhaps then we'll both find a way to resolve this."

Kiriyama made no further comment. He started to walk away and as he passed me, he said, "Goodbye, Noda Satomi," before going around the corner of the building and gradually out of sight.

I continued watching him and mouthed, "Goodbye, Kiriyama."

When I too began to leave, I made a promise to myself. I will find out the truth about you, Kiriyama. No matter what it takes.


	4. Dictation

**4 - Dictation**

That night, I couldn't sleep. Everything was beyond discombobulated. For many hours I lay awake, trying to sort things out to no avail.

I will never know how I managed to get home after Kiriyama and our "close encounter." So affected was I that my surroundings became a blur and my route was one that stretched for kilometers.

When I arrived home, I found my mother waiting. She worriedly asked me about why I took so long to get home. Of course, I made up a story about staying after school to do my homework. This succeeded in convincing her because the subject wasn't brought up again.

More likely, it was because she was too busy preparing my father's dinner when he came home to be extra curious. Like me, she often had much on her mind.

I slipped into my room unnoticed while my mother began to boil some rice. Closing the door, I flopped onto my small bed.

Kiriyama...

I shut my eyes. What am I thinking?

I wish I could see him tomorrow. He's so fascinating...so beautiful...

No, you don't want to see him, my conscious scolded. Just because he supposedly said that he'd "see you tomorrow" doesn't mean he will. Don't forget, you're playing with fire whenever you meet him.

But...I _want_ to get burned.

Feeling my face set aflame at this latest craving, I opened my eyes and let out a growl of exasperation.

"God, what am I doing?" I cried out while punching my pillow. "I'm totally losing it!"

Breathing deeply from my frenzied anxiety, I fell onto the bed again. I'm so messed up. None of this was supposed to have happened...

And it never did happen, I told myself fiercely. None of the events today happened.

Pushing over my doubts, I recklessly stood up and proceeded to do my homework and other evening activities before preparing for bed. Unfortunately, I still couldn't fully concentrate on the tasks at hand.

Great, I'm back on square one when it comes to dealing with my feelings. Who would've thought that something so simple could turn out to be something so complex?

I turned out the light, feeling dissatisfied, pulled over the downy covers, and tried my hardest to submit to sleep.

The next day was the start of the weekend. Since the beginning of this long week, I had been praying for some sort of break. And finally, those prayers have been answered.

But, as I arose from slumber, my limbs and eyelids heavily sagged down. It was much like the sensation someone would get after a whole night of drinking.

Only I certainly didn't drink last night.

I must be coming down with something, I thought when I dressed into my casual clothes for the day. Why else would I suddenly have a feeling that's reminiscent of a hangover?

Or maybe I'm going a bit mad from everything. The mind can take so much.

"No, I'm not going mad," I said aloud for extra assurance. "I'll find a solution to this."

The morning went its natural course. After I combed my hair and put on my wire-framed glasses, I went downstairs to have breakfast with my mother. Since my father left for work hours earlier, there were just two place settings.

"What's wrong, Satomi?" my mother asked as we ate. "You look so pale. I'm starting to worry about you..."

"Don't worry, it's nothing," I muttered, a little unnerved at the defensiveness in my tone.

"All right," my mother replied who remained relatively wary.

Is this really affecting me that much?

When breakfast was finished, I helped my mother wash the dishes and clean the table. Though my family wasn't poor, we were never able to gather up enough money to afford a dishwasher. So, in short, all the cleaning was done by hand.

As for the remainder of the morning, I read the time away. Sometimes, I looked into my math textbook and did some of the problems in it for practice. One can never be too sure if there is going to be a pop quiz. At least, that was my excuse for it.

Within the slow hours, morning faded into the afternoon. Even though it was getting fairly late, I had the urge to go outside for a short walk. It was either because I stayed indoors all day or I was just bored.

Putting on my thin jacket, I headed for the front door, stepping carefully out of the house and onto the sidewalk. I was about to keep walking to the right, when I stopped.

And stared in amazement.

It can't be...

Standing there, nonchalantly eying the peonies that lined the left side of my house was Kiriyama.

Words did not reach me due to the initial shock. But that moment was brief.

"Kiriyama!" I exclaimed. "Why are _you_ here?"

Kiriyama slowly looked towards me. "I said I would see you tomorrow."

"But," I sputtered, "b-but..."

Yes, he did, I remembered. But I thought he meant later! Didn't he? Or...

"I-I see," I jutted out the words, trying to think of a retort.

Before I could do so, my mother noticed us and said, "Satomi, who is that boy?" She gave me a cranky look; she was always suspicious of any boy I was with. "I've never seen him before."

"His name is Kiriyama Kazuo, Mama," I stated in a surprisingly calm manner considering how rattled I was. "He transferred to my school this week."

"Kiriyama Kazuo?" My mother's expression shined with delight. "Well, that changes everything! Come in, come in..."

I was taken aback, puzzled at my mother's change of heart. Then I understood it was due to Kiriyama's famous status. After all, he was very wealthy and the heir to a large, well-known corporation. I even heard that he lived in a huge mansion of some kind.

As it turned out, my assumption proved correct.

"You're the talk of the town, you know?" My mother smiled as she beckoned Kiriyama to sit at our plain dining table with us. "I hear your family's exceptionally rich. Is this true?"

Kiriyama blankly stared at her. "You could say that."

My mother's face lit up even more. "Wonderful!" She then glanced secretively at me before turning back to Kiriyama. "You know Satomi, don't you? Are you friends with her?"

Memories of this week soared into my head in blistering succession, causing me to blush. There's no way I'd ever be able to meet Kiriyama eye to eye again. Especially with my mother showing me off to him.

Then Kiriyama said, "I met her yesterday," and my cheeks went a deeper crimson. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this...

"Really now!" My mother piped up. "That's just wonderful! She's very smart, almost as smart as you are! You two would get along perfectly -"

"Mama, that's enough!" I cried. Gazing at her pleadingly, I continued. "Please stop. You're embarrassing me."

My mother's perplexity was the equivalent to having been slapped across the face. She flushed deeply in shame from her actions. "Oh, sorry...got carried away there," she mumbled.

The atmosphere grew to such a troublesome extent that I had a hard time gathering the will to speak.

"Mama, is it okay if I show Kiriyama my room?"

My mother nearly fell over in astonishment. "Satomi, what have I said to you about boys -"

"Mama, it'll be fine!" I hastily insisted. "He's trustworthy; he's not like other boys. You know that, don't you?"

My mother contemplated a little before giving her permission. Sighing, she said, "All right. I'll call you when lunch is ready."

"Okay," I accepted.

Without further ado, I took Kiriyama's relenting hand and led him up the stairs to the second floor.

"You'll have to forgive my mother," I quietly spoke as we journeyed onward. "She's not usually like that. She's just excited because you're pretty much the new celebrity and - ah, here we are!"

Making my way to the second door on the left side of the hall, I led Kiriyama to my room.

In terms of description, my room was far from extravagant. It was small, but not closet-sized, and it had a desk, a chair, a closet, a little bookshelf with a few books, and, of course, my bed.

Landing on it unceremoniously, I explained, "Well, this is my room. Yours is likely bigger so I'm afraid there isn't much to see."

Kiriyama, naturally, did not mind this. He walked around a few times, taking in what little detail there was, before sitting down next to me on the bed.

At the mentioning of his room, an idea came and inspired me. Why shouldn't I visit Kiriyama's house as well? If he knows where I live, I have the right to know where he lives too. Maybe by going to his mansion, I might get closer to solving the mystery that is him.

"So Kiriyama," I began, "is it possible for you to give me the address of your house? I would like to visit you, sometime -"

"They do not wish me to have visitors," Kiriyama replied with a recited air.

"Who are they?" I asked out of my infinite curiosity. This was becoming quite interesting.

"They do not wish me to speak of them," stated Kiriyama in the same manner. It sounded robotic.

Kiriyama turned and looked into my eyes. His stare was colder than usual and it sucked me in.

Oh no, I thought frantically. Oh, not now. I don't want to remember. Every time I think of him, I...

"S-Sorry," I averted my view downwards, uncontrollably burning past the neck. "I didn't mean to intrude on matters that are none of my concern. Excuse my rudeness."

God knows how long it lasted.

As if in protest came the touch of cool fingertips on my cheek.

Startled, I turned so swiftly, the hand moved too. Now the index and middle fingers rested upon my parted lips.

Kiriyama peered at my face with careful intent. I felt the bed move as he leaned in to get a better view.

"W-What are you doing?" I mumbled, the tension making me blush harder.

"Your face," said Kiriyama, "it's warm."

And I could've done a number of things but I foolishly bent back farther, farther, and my shoulder blades hit the smooth surface below. My heart raced. This can't be happening!

"What does that have to do...with anything?" I struggled. It's evident I'm losing my composure. At this rate, I'll completely lose it like last time.

I clamped my eyes shut, attempting to prevent the oncoming nausea.

"Why won't you look at me?"

Just as quickly, my eyes opened at Kiriyama's question. I stared at his face, that handsome, statuesque face centimeters away. "You said your feelings towards me were nothing more than platonic."

"How can I after what happened yesterday?" I feebly argued, control over the situation slipping through my fingers. "I was so embarrassed."

Kiriyama shifted his hands and gripped my wrists. My panic skyrocketed when my wrists were pinned to the edge of the bed.

"Then...why didn't you resist me?"

"You were...too strong." I knew this was a lie and my voice conveyed it shamelessly. But I wasn't going to surrender yet. I wasn't going to let myself become vulnerable so easily.

"I never wanted any of this to happen," I bitterly declared.

Kiriyama just leaned in till his torso collided into mine. His steady heartbeat pounded resolutely against my pulsating one and his long bangs caressed my forehead. The contact between us was impossible to ignore; our very breaths mingled together.

"Then show me," he said. It was a statement, not a command. "Prove to me you don't care."

"I think you should prove yourself first, Kiriyama," I snapped back. "Yesterday certainly had an effect on you however mild it was."

"But it also had an effect on you."

He's right, I frowned. We both ended up affected by that "wonderful" thing called hormones. This is it, though. I have to demonstrate I am impervious to him and put an end to this nonsense.

"Fine, I'll show you," I said boldly. "I'll prove right here that I don't care about you. Go on. Do it."

Indeed, I was convinced that everything would be finished. Then, as Kiriyama's well-formed mouth dove in, my resolution wavered. Could I really resist this? Will I fall into that trap of lust once again? Say, what are my feelings for Kiriyama anyway? What are they -

"Satomi!" I heard the unmistakable voice of my mother calling from downstairs. "Kiriyama! Lunch is ready!"

Fear overpowered my stubborn will. Oh God, don't let her see...

Fortunately, Kiriyama released my wrists and got off of my body in a single, fluid moment.

After I stood up and brushed myself off, there was an uncomfortable pause. The fact I lost my chance at getting rid of my now-ongoing problem ominously sank in. But that chance was timed horribly. In the end, it wasn't worth it.

Worst of all, I knew I didn't want to drive Kiriyama away yet. Though he was the entire cause of this mess, I found him intriguing. He was a paradox I had to know all about yet was not even close to understanding.

Someday, I would. He's only human.

"We'll settle this later," I told Kiriyama sternly as I pondered. "Now isn't the time."

Kiriyama stared at me and I looked back with uncertainty. This lasted but a second and the two of us went downstairs, nothing more.

I refrained from speaking to Kiriyama the rest of his time at my house. While we were eating our lunch (a simple meal of pork and mushrooms), I focused on the plate in front of me. I only stopped when Kiriyama finished eating and left.

"He's so quiet, Satomi," my mother inquired. "He definitely isn't like any boy I've ever met."

You have no idea, Mama, I thought cynically. You have no idea at all.


	5. Fixation

**5 - Fixation**

The school complex never looked more daunting. With its body of eroding bricks and fogged-up windows for eyes, it challenged me to walk through its towering doors.

I couldn't believe what I was thinking. Since when was I afraid to go to school? Since when did the idea of going to school disgust me?

Nothing unusual happened yesterday, that's for sure. It was another ordinary day in my life, forgettable like the rest. Another day of getting up, doing chores, studying for that test on Monday, finishing up homework...

...and twisting in my sheets at night, breaking into sweats.

Above all else, that freaked me out the most. The situation of me waking up at some random hour in the morning to find my body drenched in sweat had occurred straight for the past two nights.

What could it be? I kept on repeating this mantra but no solution took pity. What could it be? What could it be?

Could it have anything to do with -

No, I reprimanded. Don't even go there. Today will be normal and without _him_.

The heavy double doors swung back as I entered the building and slammed shut. Walking determinedly down the bustling hallway, students to my left and right, I fixed upon the target: my locker.

Everything progressed smoothly. My locker wasn't far away; it was the fifteenth one on the right side of the hall. I wove through student after student, hoping I would be able to arrive early at homeroom.

As I turned towards the metal cabinet that bore the number "125," a hand shot out of the crowd of students and seized my wrist.

"What?" I gasped.

No one heard me; the commotion and chatter that bounced off all sides was too much for anyone to notice.

The person who grabbed me also didn't hear me because they continued to drag me through the busy hall before stopping at a quieter section where there were little to no people present.

My assailant was clearly a boy, judging from the black school jacket. He was about my height and noticeably lean. I also recalled the sweaty palm and pallid complexion of the hand that grabbed me.

Sweaty, pale hands...only one boy in my class had those...

"Motobuchi?"

Motobuchi's back twitched before he faced me.

...I had to restrain my mouth from dropping at what I saw.

In all respect, Motobuchi looked like a hurricane survivor. His haggard eyes bulged out behind unpolished glasses and made his already worn-out face ever gaunter. Straight, black hair once precisely at three-quarters of an angle was now in complete disarray and was it my imagination or did he look thinner?

"M...Motobuchi," I said. "What happened? What's going on -"

"Noda!" Motobuchi shrieked while clutching at my arms. "You must help me!"

"H-help you with what?" I questioned. This situation was so surreal; I was still trying to comprehend it.

"Him! Kiriyama! I don't know how he does it! Every test, every assignment...no effort at all! I can't figure it out!

Motobuchi jerked his head towards me in despair. "Noda...you've been with him a lot...I was wondering..."

Astonishment struck me right then and there for two reasons. The first was obvious; how did Motobuchi come to that conclusion? Apart from our classroom partnership in literature last week, no one saw me with Kiriyama. Unless...maybe he saw us together on the day I called him over to the back of the school (which was highly possible)?

The second reason was one I never expected. Motobuchi...male class representative...strict disciple of school rules and homework...was asking me to help him cheat? Why would he, of all people, do such a thing?

Either way...I wasn't going to get involved.

"Forget it, Motobuchi," I berated him. "I can't believe you're asking me to do this. I thought you were better than that."

"But...Noda..."

"No!" I shook my head. "Forget it! I'll never sink that low!"

Turning away from a pathetic-looking Motobuchi, I brooded in indignation as I went to my locker. Unbelievable, how people are sometimes. You think you know them and then they change when you least expect them to.

No matter, I thought while grabbing my books and closing my locker with a "bang!" I suppose there exist some just like that. Fickle.

I arrived at my homeroom without further interruption and sat down at my desk. Since the time was before actual classes began, I decided to flip open a text book and study for that test today. I didn't want to fail -

"Satomi?"

I removed my gaze from the book. Standing next to my desk with concerned eyes and braided hair was Yukie. "We need to talk," she said, beckoning me to an equally concerned Haruka on the other side of the room.

Odd how I didn't notice Yukie or Haruka were there. Do I have that much on my mind?

Doing as Yukie requested, I walked over to where she and Haruka sat.

"Forgive me for saying this, Satomi," Yukie started oh-so diplomatically, "but...you've been acting really, really strange. You never talk to us and keep avoiding everybody." Turning to Haruka for support, she commented, "Isn't that right, Haruka?"

Exposure to Yukie's pleading gaze was all it took for Haruka to move her head in agreement. "Yeah, that's right."

Yukie looked back at me. Her voice became motherly, as if consoling an upset baby. "So Satomi...please tell me what's going on. I want to help you. We all want to help you."

That was when something snapped. I didn't know whether it was the words Yukie was saying or the way she said them. All I knew was that it unlocked a Pandora's Box of emotions that I could not contain.

"So, you think I'm weird?" I muttered, hanging my head down.

"No. I just -"

Before Yukie could continue, I cut her off. Feeling a deep resentment I never knew I possessed, I said, "If anything, _you're_ the one who's weird, Yukie! Always fawning after Nanahara instead of paying attention to your studies! Shame on you!"

I glared at Yukie. That's right. Ever since we were in elementary school, it was like that. She was always getting the acclaim of our peers and...what did I get? Sure we both got good grades but in the end, I bested her in intelligence. And yet...

And yet she was voted female class representative!

"It makes me wonder how you ever got the position of class representative," I raged. "Or...or is that it? Class representative's nothing more than a popularity contest! Is that it?

My eyes rolled to the floor. "The hardworking never get noticed! We're shoved into the background, thought of as geeks and nerds! Never noticed!"

I gripped the side of a nearby chair for balance. It didn't matter how disjointed I was. It didn't matter how Yukie and Haruka looked at me. No, none of it mattered. I was so near the breaking point, I could just...

"Satomi!" Yukie's cheeks went white. "Just tell me what's wrong -"

"If you've nothing better to do than criticize me, shut the hell up!" I venomously spat.

Yukie froze. Then her eyes glistened and I could tell my words cut deep. Whatever. She's the one who's stupid. I'm perfectly fine so why is everyone thinking otherwise?

"Satomi, that was uncalled for!" Haruka cried angrily, comforting Yukie's shaking form.

Immediately, my lips quivered from bridled laughter. So the loyal attack dog goes to protect her master. How cute! How precious! How _predictable_!

Tossing my head, I allowed a cocky smirk to flourish uncharacteristically on my face. I continued holding that grin as Haruka stared at me outraged. I strutted out, not bothering to listen to her telling me to come back.

Reaching a section of hallway that was far from my homeroom, I reflected upon my recent actions and embarrassment took over. It was like waking from a dream. Huh...what did I just do?

"Damn it!" I gritted out while punching the wall, scraping my knuckles.

No...I'm not acting strange. If I was acting strange then I'm not Noda Satomi. Noda Satomi is rational and never acts so carelessly at random. Understand?

I nodded in satisfaction. Yes, they're all wrong. It's a phase...I'm not weird...I'm not weird. Not one bit.

And that's when I turned around -

- to be stopped by a very familiar figure.

"Oh, it's you," I curtly stated, looking up at Kiriyama's blank face. Of all the people in the world, Kiriyama was the last person I needed to see. Therefore I wanted to extinguish our conversation as soon as possible.

"Well Kiriyama, I have to get to class. Goodbye."

I tried to move around him. But a hand slammed down against the wall, blocking my path. The other hand followed suit and of course, there was no way out for me.

"Kiriyama," I repeated, annoyed, "I have to get to class. I don't want to be late -"

"Class doesn't start until fifteen minutes," Kiriyama said, his cold eyes flickering.

His aim became clear. I get it. So you want to continue what we started at my house. But if you think I'll allow this day to desecrate my standing at school any further...you're sadly mistaken.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I hissed, "You know this isn't the right time or place, don't you? People can see us. Don't you care about your reputation? Or at least what it can do for you?" My eyes narrowed. "Are you really this tactless?"

Kiriyama's form tensed, causing me to raise an eyebrow. What is he doing?

Then, with the swiftness of a boomerang, I was flying.

Or I thought I was. How else could Kiriyama defy the laws of physics that we learned in school so effortlessly? How else could the time it took for me to abruptly exhale be more than the time taken for Kiriyama to sweep us to an empty corridor many meters down? How else could we have wound up in the exact position we were in before with the exception of location?

It wasn't long after this impossible feat occurred that Kiriyama said, "Will anyone see us now?"

In the manner I believed to be a proper reaction, I gnashed my teeth. Damn him! He's mocking me! What right does he have to twist my words to his use? Does he think this is a game -

Yes...it is a game, I realized. It was a competition from the start. Between both our intellects. Oh yes...what an enthralling concept.

Letting out a quick laugh, I mused, "This is a game, isn't it Kiriyama? If that's the case then I'll accept your proposal. After all, why not?" My tone roughened despite my smile. "_Why_ _not_?"

As expected, there was nothing from Kiriyama. Until...

"I cannot help but notice how aggressive you are in comparison to last week."

Questions and conspiracies stormed uninhibited. Why is he bringing up that?

"So?" I brashly asked to cover my worry.

Paying no heed to my offensive behavior, Kiriyama drew closer. "I wonder what will happen...if I repeat my actions from Friday."

My eyes bulged at his suggestion. "You...y-you wouldn't dare (has he no _shame_?). Not here...not at school..."

Unfortunately, I couldn't say more. Kiriyama's hand pressed against my throat, preventing further protest. Also, the way the hand was positioned coerced me to look up at him. I could scarcely breathe let alone move my head.

"Will you remain aggressive?" Kiriyama asked, more to himself than me. He sounded so much like a scientist. "I wonder...what will be the reaction, this time?"

I was able to gag out, "But you're forcing it on me. You're not allowing me a choice."

There was no escaping it. Kiriyama had the edge and now he was seconds away from kissing me. Again. "And still you remain, accepting as ever."

Just when his lips grazed mine, I recalled the number of times I passed by couples making out in the hallways, at the end of lockers, or in lonely corridors like this one. I thought back to Souma and her group. They do this kind of thing all the time. But they do much more, right? And...I'm technically doing it as well. Ugh...disgusting...

Finding my strength, I shoved Kiriyama's hand off my neck and thrust my head to the side to avoid his mouth.

Only not quickly enough.

The appearance of a warm dampness on my cheek alerted my senses. In my less-than-ideal state of mind, I was unable to tell what exactly it was. Then it dawned on me. It was Kiriyama's _tongue_. Kiriyama's tongue on my cheek. Somehow, it missed and landed on my...

Frozen we were, like bizarre statues; I in dumb understanding, and him...possibly the same thing though I doubt it. Nevertheless, Kiriyama's tongue retreated to its proper place, back into his mouth. It slightly dragged across my skin, causing my entire face to tremble.

I knew Kiriyama was looking at me. I could tell his gaze was on me. But I couldn't bring myself to respond. Looking at him was looking at the sun; harsh, blinding, calculating.

All I could do was mechanically raise a hand to my cheek and..._ah_!

Not bothering with "goodbyes," I dashed past Kiriyama, sprinting down the hall like a madwoman before returning to my homeroom. Upon reaching my desk, I exhaled deeply, my body that of a frightened deer. I concentrated on school, on learning, on telling Yukie she's wrong, they're wrong, I'm fine, it'll go away...

But it would not go away. I couldn't get my thoughts off of what happened between Kiriyama and me before school started. Frequently, through every class, my hand drifted over the spot where his tongue marked me though the moisture had long since evaporated.

Yukie refused to talk to me and so did Motobuchi as anticipated. Yet I couldn't find myself to care. Hard as it was to accept, I wished for no company other than myself; although, it was more by circumstance and not by choice.

Throughout the torturous morning, an inner beast demanded fulfillment. Yes, I said beast. The notorious heat blazing at my every impulse morphed into some kind of creature that had no name. Slowly, it was becoming one with me, charring my restraint away.

Lunchtime rolled by but I wasn't in the cafeteria. As a matter of fact, I had no idea where I was. Wandering down endless numbers of hallways, I forgot about everyone and everything. The world could have blown up and I would not have noticed.

There was one thought churning in my overworked brain and that...was Kiriyama.

I thought first about how so many girls wanted him. To hell with them, I huffed. They don't know him, silly wenches. Neither do the teachers who see him as solely a prodigy. There's not one among them who know him.

A nervous giggle emerged from my throat. Yes, I'm proud to say that he chose me. Like he said, he could've chosen any other girl but he chose _me_. It was _me_ who got his first kiss, _me_ who he acknowledges as his almost-equal. Smartest boy and smartest girl. Perfect and appropriate.

For no good reason, I thought of Kiriyama's tongue, its moist texture. I groaned. Why did he do that? Why did he do this to me? I ought to know _why_. That couldn't have been an accident. Kiriyama's without flaw; it must've been deliberate. So what was his point? What does it _mean_?

Suddenly, my stomach throbbed and I leaned against the corner of the hall grasping it tightly. A hundred ideas assembled themselves in my frenzied imagination. I pictured Kiriyama without his shirt, in response to my anxious question of whether his flesh was really as pale and beautiful as it looked. Then another image materialized and Kiriyama had nothing on and I could see him fully without the interference of clothing. The pictures that passed became more graphic, more voluptuous to my senses and I couldn't do a thing. It was like I was watching a video without any remote or any clue about where it was going.

During that time, my body heat grew to such a point that my gut was heaving in sickness. Bile climbed the sides of my throat; I was going to vomit.

By chance, there happened to be a bathroom nearby. I rushed in, too tired to deal with whoever was occupying it. Luckily for me, no one was present.

Staggering into one of the stalls, I collapsed on the floor. My fingers clasped the rim of the toilet bowl and I witnessed my troubled expression - my dazed expression - in the water. Too much has happened today. Just...oh, just let it end, let it go, let go -

Hallucinated white light filled my vision and I vomited.


End file.
